St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1887-12-25

WlliQS along Tie 166G OF lUO tOWcIIIS
bluffs that keep in humble subsection
the unpretentiOuS ZumbrO river. The
200 thrifty citizens who constitute the
entire population of the town have
built their homes neat and comfortable,
on the very shoulders of the bluffs, and
they are linked to the level world be-
low them by three crazy flights OF
wooden stairs that keep the town coun-
ell busy making appropriations for their
repair. In the summer Millvllle is a
very pretty spot on the face of the earth,
for it OverlOOkS deep valley filled with
flowers and luXuriant vines that lift
themselves up from the ShadOwy deep
along the face of the bluff and Irvine
affectiOnately around the feet of the lit
lie town. In the winter their
flowers have died. and these vines, so
radiant in summer, lie in ruined. tan
gled mass throughout the valley, and the
scene presented to the eye.aS one climbs
down from the stuffy little car and is
left in a cloud of rank-smelling coal
smoke from the stack of the WheeZy To-
connective, is anything but pleasing. The
only indications of civilization that meet
your eye this side of the cramped-lOOk-
ing town hanging on the front of the
bluff are tall, SODer-lOoking grain ele-
VatOr and a modest railway depot. The
former is repulsive: the latter, however,
has a genial aspect about it. for in the
windows bloom plants of common va
riety that seem all the more dear tOyOu
for their commences. The windows
are shaded with neat curtains, and there
are other indications about the place
that invariably attract the attention of
the visitor whether his motive for stop
ping at Millville be pleasure or bust
ness, for he can see at casual glance
that there is a wOI1an's hand in all this.
Martha Eileen Holahan, pleasing
little lady who frankly says her age is
twenty-fOur years. calls this depot her
stronghold. and the name is not mis-
homer, since for five years it has offered
her protection against the Billiards and
elemental Onslaughts peculiar to the
winters and summers of Minnesota;
since during that time she has filled the
position of agent for the Chicago, Mil
waukee Il st. Paul railroad and the
American Express company at this
point.
In thus abruptly introducing Miss
Holahan to the public. the GLOBE pre-
sents a young lady who is bound to
make her mark in the world of litera-
tuFe. a young woman who is endowed
with faculty for pOetiZing that will
some day carry her to the height at
tanned by that passionate breather of
rhyme, Ella Wheeler Wilcox. Several
months ago Miss HOlahan contributed a
poem to the GLOBE that exhibited more
than ordinary pOetical talent, and later
on came still more excellent compost
tons, the most meritOriOuS of which is
the beautiful octave given below:
UNDERNEATH TIE MIsTLEToE.
From Christmas dance, and pleasant plans,
You stole away-perchance to rest;
You were daughter of the manse,
And Ia homeless, hapless guest.
Along those storied halls you sped,
Forgive me that watched you go!
How could help it when you shed
More radiance than the tapers' glow?
From light-spun jest, and happy mirth
You fed oh, love, why did you fee?
Could you have dreamt how void of worth
Your absence made that cheer to me?
The rooms were full of Christmas-time,
And ladies laughter, sweely low,
Rang soft as distant silv'ry chime
OF bells, across the crystal snow.
A rare, sweet waltz sobbed ont. Indeed,
Within the mazes of that dance,
One might have well forsworn his creed,
Disarmed by Beauty's magic lance!
Above the fairest there you shone,
All, did l not, dear, tell you so,
While we two briefly were alone
Enraptured, meath the mistletoe?
Within the Yule-logs' light you stood;
Could be then so much 10 blame?
Your sweet eyes dropped, iii pensive mood,
Deep-gazing on that sheet of flame.
loved Won sol YOU were so fair!
But far above me, dear, know;
Yes forgot-yet, then and there;
kissed you, meath the miStletoei
In dreams I've often lived that night,
While pausing by some greening bough,
The distant strain! that leaping light
Ny maddened pulse long sobered now.
And oft I've wondered, love. since then,
As Yule-log seasons come and go,
If you recall that Christmas when
caught you meath the mistletoe.
One happy second meath my kiss
Your sweet lips pulsed. Could you forget?
That moment of strange, thrilling bliss,
Seemed worth lifetime of regret.
Your warm face quivered on my breast
SoIong-before let you gOi
For l. in Paradise, was blessed
Full well, beneath that mistletoe!
Alas! The strongest are but weak,
When pushing 'gainst Fate's iron chain;
Crushed passions-which We dare not speak,
Are those that wear within the brain.
And whether better to forget
That Christmas page of long ago,
would not if could, regret
One moment meath its mistletoe.
Dear heart, when now pass you by,
A serf where you are throned queen;
wonder if you ever sigh,
Or weep, perchance-when all unseenl
And if we two could stand again,
Alone, as i'll that grand Yule glow;
Would you be tender, love, as when
kissed you. meath the mistletoe?
HER PERSONAL APPEARANCE.
Miss ,Holahan is not a beautiful
woman, nor is she of that robust, vo-
luptuous type of wOmanhood to which
Ella Wheeler Wilcox belongs; on the
contrary, she is hardly above medium
height, with a figure slim but full of
grace, a well-shaped head set proudly
ON pair of beautifully nodded
shoulders. eyes dark7y blue that seem
to interpret the thoughts of the owner
when she becomes engaged in earnest
conversation, a wreath of beautiful hair
bordering on auburn, firmly set lips
that denote character, a nose as straight
and perfect as if carven from marble,